


piece of cake

by doremifasorashige, thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Bloodplay, Bondage, Canon Universe, Knifeplay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doremifasorashige/pseuds/doremifasorashige, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Tamamori cuts Fujigaya like a birthday cake.





	piece of cake

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo (guns/blades).

The dim light shines off the object in Tamamori’s hand, making Fujigaya squint, but he doesn’t ask what it is. He just looks up at Tamamori, disappointment mixed with impatience in his eyes, and Tamamori wonders exactly who’s kidnapping whom here.

“You know how to use that thing?” Fujigaya asks, voice calm and maybe deeper than usual.

In answer, Tamamori flicks open the switchblade with one snap. Slowly he approaches the bed where he has Fujigaya positioned, wrists and ankles bound by silk scarves, both tied in impossible knots because Tamamori’s better than a motherfucking Boy Scout. He smirks as he realizes how prepared he really is. He’s only been thinking about this for five years.

Fujigaya’s adam’s apple bobs in his throat as Tamamori gets closer, the only sign of fear. Tamamori feels his lips twitch as he squashes his urge to cut there first—he needs Fujigaya alive. His blood won’t taste nearly as good otherwise.

Tamamori licks his lips as he pressed the tip of the blade to Fujigaya’s neck, just resting against that skin before lightly dragging it right under his collar bone, leaving a red line in its path. He wants to savor this, enjoy cutting Fujigaya’s skin and watching the sweet, warm drip of his blood over that tan flesh.

He’s torn between watching Fujigaya’s face when he finally presses the blade to his skin hard enough, and watching the deep red slip from its confines of flesh and vein. Tamamori settles on Fujigaya’s face, drinking up the way his eyes flutter for a moment, as he clenches his jaw. For a moment, he wonders if Fujigaya enjoys pain, fighting the temptation to cut deeper, harsher, into his skin. At least for the time being.

Fujigaya’s face is gorgeous. That full lower lip pulled between his teeth. The tiny scowl in his face that Tamamori believes is Fujigaya in though, asking himself why this is the turn of events. It’s so much more than Tamamori could have hoped or dreamed for.

“Having fun yet?” He asks with a smirk.

“You tell me,” Fujigaya answers, because he’s an ornery bitch even when he’s got a knife to his throat, which becomes literal as Tamamori lifts the dull side of the blade to press right under Fujigaya’s adam’s apple.

Tamamori’s eyes flick downward to where Fujigaya’s sweatpants are doing nothing to hide how much fun he’s having. Then he looks back up to the shining red of the cut he’d just made, surreptitiously licking his lips as he holds himself back just a little bit longer.

“Nobody will miss you for a few days,” he says evenly, tracing the dips in Fujigaya’s neck with the dull side of the blade. “Anything I do to your face will heal before then.”

Fujigaya inhales sharply, visibly trembling as Tamamori’s teasing moves up his jaw to his cheeks. Tamamori’s not asking permission exactly, but Fujigaya does nothing to deter him from outlining those lips. He knicks the bottom one on purpose, watching Fujigaya flinch as the small bead of blood forms, and Tamamori’s waited long enough.

He leans in, licking at the drop before pressing their lips together in an afterthought. Fujigaya’s mouth opens immediately—obediently—and they both groan at the taste, tongues swirling together while Tamamori keeps the knife held firmly to Fujigaya’s cheek.

Tamamori hums when their lips parts, enjoying the taste of Fujigaya on his tongue. He puts enough space between them to begin moving the dull side of the blade once more, contemplating the next mark.

Right on Fujigaya’s cheek, Tamamori leaves a small cut, dragging the blade down. The blood drips from the cut, and Tamamori thinks if it were up just a little higher in his face, Fujigaya would look as if he were crying.

He leans in to lick at the red trail, lapping at the fresh blood that seeps through the opening.

Fujigaya’s cheeks turn a little red a the sound he makes, a tiny whimper in the back of his throat. Tamamori wonders if its from arousal or if he’s just a bit frightened by the idea of Tamamori with a knife to _his face_.

Tamamori reaches down with his other hand and gropes Fujigaya roughly, enough to make him jump and earn another nick at the base of his jaw. Tamamori’s mouth automatically moves, drinking up all of the life flowing from Fujigaya’s face even if it’s in small beads and ribbons. He doesn’t want to drain too much, after all.

He squeezes Fujigaya’s erection extra hard through his pants, determined to make him moan, and Fujigaya finally complies as he tilts his head back. Baring his throat to Tamamori right now is not a good idea, but Tamamori narrowly resists the urge to take his knife to it and leans in with his teeth instead.

He grazes his teeth over the line of Fujigaya’s throat, before stopping and biting down hard, drawing a groan out. Tamamori uses that as a reason to suck on the skin, leaving a darkening red mark when he pulls away. It blooms like a flower on Fujigaya’s neck.

“You’re so pretty,” Tamamori tells him, because right now he is, especially when he starts to shiver from the cool air tingling the multiple spots of liquid on his face. “Cold?”

Fujigaya nods a little, and Tamamori leans down to trail his tongue along the first line he’d drawn on the collarbone. He licks it thoroughly, like he’s cleaning it, then presses a kiss to the cut. Fujigaya lets out a small moan and Tamamori licks his way up Fujigaya’s neck, drinking up all of the marks he’s made.

“Better?” he asks, and Fujigaya nods again as Tamamori straddles his lap and rocks against him. “You gonna last if I ride you like this?”

Fujigaya’s eyes flutter shut as he lets out a low sound. “Probably not,” he says, voice rough and it makes Tamamori smile.

“We’ll just have to see how long I can keep you going then.” Tamamori leans in again, still rocking his hips, and kisses Fujigaya slowly, dragging the blade of the knife gently along Fujigaya’s chest. He  
makes a few more knicks, detaching himself from Fujigaya’s mouth to kiss down his neck and to his chest, licking up the red ribbons that begin to slide down his skin.

Fujigaya’s back arches, hips snapping uncontrollably and Tamamori licks a pink line down Fujigaya’s chest until he feels the hard bulge grind against his throat. He hums into Fujigaya’s belly button, flicking a small slice right next to it for a fresh blood supply before tossing the knife to the side. He’s done decorating for now.

“Tama,” Fujigaya gasps, shamelessly rubbing himself against Tamamori’s neck and chin. “I can’t stop.”

“Nobody said you had to,” Tamamori replies as he hooks his fingers in Fujigaya’s pants to pull them down. “But if you hold out for a little longer, it’ll be worth your while.”

Fujigaya whines at that, which seems to heighten the tang of his taste in Tamamori’s mouth that is quickly joined by the puddle of precome that’s formed at the slit of his cock. He hums at the taste of Fujigaya on his tongue, licking down the shaft as he pulls Fujigaya’s pants down more, pressing fingers into the soft skin of his hips when they’re exposed.

Fujigaya’s head tilts back into Tamamori’s peripheral as he lets out a choked sound, and Tamamori is momentarily torn between wanting to attach his lips back to Fujigaya’s neck, lick at the pink little line, and taking the entire length in his mouth. He chooses the latter, enjoying the choked sounds enough as he takes more of Fujigaya in.

He’s heavy on Tamamori’s tongue, warm, with a salty taste, just slightly. Tamamori wonders what it would be like if he made another cut just above Fujigaya’s groin, getting a mouthful of that tang that is Fujigaya’s life mixed with this salty taste. If he hadn’t already tossed the knife away, he’d probably find out. Instead he hums once more around the length, pulling back till only the tip is in his mouth and sucking.

“Tama,” Fujigaya breathes, breath heavy with each bob of his adam’s apple. “I’m almost—”

Tamamori cuts him off with a hard suck, making a loud slurping noise at the mixture of fluids as he runs a fingernail along Fujigaya’s hip line, where it Vs down into his groin. Right there, Tamamori thinks, and digs his nail into the skin as hard as he can, which has Fujigaya crying out and coming hard in Tamamori’s mouth.

He hadn’t even broken the skin, but it was enough to bruise and it looks just as good when Tamamori presses a sloppy kiss to it and leaves it pink. Quickly he crawls up Fujigaya’s body, returning to his previous wounds before they dry, drinking down the way Fujigaya whines at the additional stimulation along with his blood.

“What a shame,” Tamamori whispers into the skin of his throat, rutting his own erection against Fujigaya’s leg. “You could have done that inside me.”

Fujigaya lets out a weak laugh, maybe a sob, Tamamori isn’t really sure but he tilts his head to the side to give more access. “Maybe next time,” he says slowly.

Tamamori hums. “Maybe. I would like to cut you up more.” He bites gently at Fujigaya’s throat then, and Fujigaya lets out a groan, clearly intrigued, but not ready at the moment. “Want to help me out here until then?” He reaches up to Fujigaya’s tied hands, pulling easily at the knots and setting him free, then brings one of Fujigaya’s hands to his erection. “I’m close, Gaya,” he whispers, lips still against Fujigaya’s neck.

Fujigaya tightens his fingers and Tamamori moans into his throat, hips snapping so roughly that Fujigaya doesn’t even have to move. He scrapes his teeth along Fujigaya’s skin as he starts to lose it, tasting a fresh drop of blood that sends him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he gasps, hanging his head on Fujigaya’s sweaty chest, inadvertently finding another open wound.

“We didn’t make it that far,” Fujigaya wheezes, and they both laugh breathlessly. “We’re a mess.”

“ _You’re_ a mess,” Tamamori says, lifting his heavy head to brush his lips against Fujigaya’s.

Fujigaya shrugs half heartedly, tasting the copper tinge of blood on Tamamori’s lips. “Details,” he mutters.

Tamamori kisses Fujigaya a few more times with a lazy press of his lips, and licks once more at the wound highest up on Fujigaya’s chest before climbing off the bed to get something to clean them up with.

After they’re all clean and settled, and Tamamori has put disinfectant on Fujigaya’s wounds, Tamamori says with a yawn, “Next time I think I’ll mark you up more.” He’s itching to press his finger to one of the cuts now, wanting to hear the little gasp Fujigaya might make, but he settles for replaying his sounds in his head instead.


End file.
